


Through the Willow Arch

by KickstartAsylum (NorthernBlueLemonade)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: MCiT, Mistaken for an Elf, Modern Character in Thedas, Names Have Been Changed To Protect The Innocent (Or Not So Innocent), Rating May Change, Regretting teenage decisions, Tags to be added, Talking Cats, another day another dick, dream stuff, hopefully realistic, mildly prophetic dreams, trigger warning withdrawals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-10-13 17:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernBlueLemonade/pseuds/KickstartAsylum
Summary: Jessamine is like, the worst candidate for portal fantasy. She spends most of her time wheezing up stairs to her third floor classes, drowning her poorly wired brain in self-medicating caffeine, or taking on projects much larger than she can chew. She works what she believes is a skill-less job, and her worldly intelligence is... lacking in some areas and uselessly over informed in others. She should have died in the first five seconds. She didn’t.





	1. And Down Alice Fell, Into the Rabbit Hole

“Hi, babies!” She cooed, squeezing through the doorway to keep the eldest, Envy, from slipping outside. Habit’s sharp bark sounded incessantly, staccato. 

“That is unnecessary!” She tried not to laugh, stepping over the baby gate. Well, not stepping. More like swinging one leg over and then the other, trying not to kick Envy in the process. She quickly fell into routine. Open the doggy doors, feed Getty, then Hanna, then Habit because Habit wolfed down her food too fast to do it any other way, as it was difficult to gather her water pail when you’ve an overexcited dog nipping at your hand for petting. Rinse the pails, fill them with clean water, hook them back in. Give ‘em treats, then head out to scoop their droppings into a bucket -fucking Shannon and her need to do it only one way- and make sure the gates were locked outside. Come back in, wash her hands, and mix Envy’s wet food with the kibble, and make sure to use the chicken can, not beef, because for whatever reason, there exists a dog that doesn’t like beef. Hold the bowl for her so she actually eats and make a game of giving Envy her sod; and then it was time to take care of Shannon, her boss that had eaten herself into so many health conditions -and her chair- that Jessamine was surprised the woman had made it to seventy two. Make her food, get her crushed ice -_in a solo cup!__\- _and bring her her insulin and fishbowl of other meds. Fetch this, do that, change the thermostat five different times. Stay and visit because Jessamine is Shannon’s only company, and deflect Shannon’s pleading to take the dogs if anything happened. Her family might put them down, but Jessamine’s mother was allergic, and her mother’s husband didn’t like dogs. At all. Rinse and repeat twice a day, to make barely 200 bucks in a week, and it all goes to gas and insurance and everything else her mother deigned to make her pay. 

Four days a week, she had classes at the community college three towns over, from 9 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon. Then it was time to work on homework. 

“Paganism in Latin America and the Cultural Effects of Forced Assimilation” stared at her from her laptop screen as she sat on the hill in the back yard. 

_There are plenty of ways to conquer a people. You can kill them all. You can enslave them all. You can take away their language, their laws, their religion. Pit brother against brother, and kill those that rebel. It’s something we white people excel at, unfortunately. The Vikings, the Native Americans, the Inuit to the north. But the United States isn’t the first (technically) Spanish-speaking country to do so. _

_Spanish Conquistadors|... _her cursor blinked mockingly. Here was her new problem; Latin America encompassed much more than the Central America she thought it had. What country should she start with? She sighed, saving her work, and put the laptop in the house. 

“Ey, ma!” She called, yelling to be heard across the house and over the laundry.

”What?” Came the answering shout from the other end of the house. 

“I’m heading out! I’ll be back in time to go to Shannon’s.”

”Whatever.” She left, bare feet tapping against the packed dirt of their driveway, and then the road. She wandered the back roads aimlessly. 

As much as Jessamine loved wandering the hills she loosely called home, she'd never seen this before. A tree- a weeping willow, her favorite to play in as a child- stood just about as normal as any other tree in the area, except for one branch, oddly by itself, weighed down in an arch by years worth of ivy and other hanging plants, small pink flowers brushing the surface of a creek. _Well, that’s a doorway if I’ve ever seen one,_ she grinned. If she were younger, she'd have played at being a hero, off to a magical realm to save the world, until it got dark and she had to return to the house. It was the bare end of summer, not quite cold, but not in the hundred degrees they’d easily reached not even a week ago. Well, what was the harm in a little fun? She stood just this side of the dangling ivy. Were those spiderwebs, wet with dew and shining in the light, or something else? Something _magical?_

She laughed at her own imagination. But she was having fun, so with a little nerve and a whole lotta childish bravery, she screwed her eyes shut and leapt across the creek, through the ivy and onto the grassy bank on the other side. She hesitantly opened one eye, then the other. It looked the same.

“Dunno what I expected.” She grinned, and turned around. “Oh.” The branch was no longer there. Nor was the creek. Instead, the sky bled green and a mountain village loomed ahead of her. “Oh _no_.”


	2. We’re Not in Michigan Anymore, Toto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just going through and patching.  
Chapter 2.1 now includes  
\- more obvious references to beginnings of the withdrawals quitting her medications cold turkey would cause   
\- edits to acknowledge her lack of anything more than the mild exercise of existing

_Okay, don’t panic. The quickest way to die is to panic. _It didn’t matter that she kept repeating it to herself, her mind still raced, and her hands were starting to shake. She was _on a mountain, _in her _summer clothes. _She was suddenly glad for her stubborn rejection of tank tops and leggings, or she’d have really been cursing her luck right about now. Funny enough, there was snow under her bare feet, and yet she wasn’t all that cold. It was just... uncomfortably wet. Gods above, she hated wet skin. 

What was it they’d said? Three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter. Air she had plenty of. Even at this height, which she guessed was pretty high from her panic-inducing glance down, it wasn’t hard for her to breathe. Shelter. Caves were their own set of dangers, but all the trees here were evergreens, and who would have wanted to cover their little shelter in them anyways? What she wouldn’t give for a grove of oaks. 

“Hey! You, there!” She spun, looking for the source. Her first instinct was cops, and to run, but she almost laughed at herself. Cops, in what was probably a fey realm or whatever? She regretted not looking into the topic. She was woefully unprepared if she was in one. 

Generic looking _medieval fucking soldiers _weren’t too far away, enough that she might be able to run, but their bows told her she shouldn’t. 

“Yes?” Polite. She could do that. Act like the whole scene was normal, not an idiot in a whole other world facing off a couple of people (supposedly) from a time she only read about. Apparently polite confused them, their bows lowering slowly as they looked to each other.

"You'll come with us."

"Under whose authority do you make such a demand?" Judging by their looks, she'd been just a little too subtle in her sass. Before she could dig herself further into this pit, the seeming leader gave a sloppy... salute? A fist to his chest and just a bit of a bow. The burning sarcasm in the gesture dripped onto the snow, and she half expected it to actually melt. Of course, it didn't, because sarcasm is an intangible thing.

"Under the authority of the Hands of the Divine, _you'll come with us._" The threat there was clear. She rolled her eyes, ever defiant in the face of authority. "If I must." She picked her way through the snow and rocks to them, and when they took off to who knew where, she had trouble keeping up. Uphill travel had never been her best friend. Calculating glances were occasionally sent her way, but she ignored them in favor of observing the village as they approached the gates, and then through them and down what seemed to be the main path. People stared as they passed, and she was sure they made an odd picture- three soldiers boxing in a kid in denim and a hoodie. Apparently her lack of shoes really got them. Whatever. They stopped at a tent where a woman was inspecting a paper she'd taken from a _fucking raven's leg. What the Hel kinda place..._

"Lady Nightingale." The leader, Mr. Assface as Jessamine had taken to calling him in her head, greeted the woman, and then waited. It wasn't long.

"Who is this?" Well then. That was a look Jessamine didn't like. It was a looky look. A look that made you feel... looked at. Jessamine decided this was a person best avoided. Unfortunately, life didn't seem to like that path.

"We found her in the snow, below the village." 

"Put her in the Chantry for now, with the other." And thus, she was unceremoniously herded to a building on the other side of the path, and then down a flight of stairs into a _fucking dungeon, what was it with these people?_ They passed an armored woman with dark hair, and with the way she held herself as she talked to another woman in red and white robes, she wouldn't be surprised if the woman was noble, or even royal. She was shoved gracelessly into a cell next to a shackled man, either asleep or out cold Jessamine didn't know. He was breathing, at least. The door slammed shut, and they were alone, save for two guards.

"Are they gone?" The whisper was so quiet that Jessamine almost didn't hear it, except she'd been glancing over the man and had seen his lips move. Clearly there was need for secrecy.

"Mhmm." She hummed, glancing at the men on either side of the doorway. "Two idiots though."

"Ah well, I've put it off long enough, anyways." He sat up from his slouch against the stone wall, and one of the guards left. His eyes zeroed in on something next to her face.

"You're an elf?" Her hand swept up to her ear, feeling the point. Amazing how often she forgot what she actually looked like. She shook her head, dropping her hand. "A friend did it for me." She wasn't going to obsess about the fact that apparently there were elves too, here. Fucking weird shit, is what it all was. 

"You purposefully pointed your ears." He looked at her with a weighted expression, and she got the impression that wherever here was, elves weren't something you generally wanted to emulate.

"I- yeah." She grinned vindictively. "My dad was-" The door swung open, and Lady Nightingale and the dark haired woman from before swept in, the remaining guard coming to drag the man- she hadn't even gotten his name- into the open space of the room's center.

And that’s when it got really weird. Glowing hands, dead popes, and a bombing. It all went over her head. The dark haired woman, Cassandra, apparently, went to attack him for daring to not know something, and Jessamine flinched back from the bars. Nightingale stopped her though, and Jessamine reflected that this was not a very nice place with not very nice people. She also reflected that she probably should have noticed this earlier.

Then, they were gone, leaving her alone with those two guards. So she took a nap.

* * *

She woke what she thought was much later in the day, disoriented and not quite sure what was reality and what wasn't. It wasn't often she woke in such a manner, but it was unerringly always before something big. Before she'd found out college was a feasible option. Before she got expelled from high school. Twice. Before her grandmother's friend had died. She took a moment to collect herself, idly wondering what the big event might be.

The building shook, and her guards swore, stumbling. Ah. Impeccable timing, universe. She stood as the guards left, and when the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, she tested the door. They'd left it unlocked. She grinned, and stepped out, leaving the door wide open and exploring the room. She gathered up the books she found, taking them -and a pair of chairs from the table in the far corner, dust thick from disuse- back to her cell, leaving the door open. She wasn't going to make things worse for herself by trying to leave, that was just dumb. But there was no reason for to be bored while doing so. She sat the chairs opposite each other against the walls, sitting in one and propping her feet up on the other as she opened the first book in the stack; _In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar. _


	3. In Which Lying Was Probably the Best Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patch notes!  
\- tapped her with a nerf gun, she now pointedly ignores how her little bits of ‘magic’ come much easier, rather than it just being that easy  
\- Removed Solas’ peeping Tom presence, as by my world building notes he shouldn’t be able to find her

When one stays the night in a dungeon, expecting a fellow prisoner’s return, one does not sleep soundly. When one spends three days in such a manner, one gets bored. She woke violently from what she guessed was a nightmare early on the third day, bits of dreamstuff slipping through her fingers faster each time she tried to hold it tight. Jessamine decided she was tired of the listless sleep and dust and dirt and the dreams she couldn't remember and laid claim to the room. By the end of the day, it was obvious. She'd returned the chairs to the table and stacked the books on top. A broom had been left, for whatever reason -who left a broom in a dungeon?- and she swept the floor, grumbling about the state of things.

"Honestly, you'd think they want their 'guests' to die of infection." She huffed, sweeping out the last unlocked cell. 

"That is not the intention, no." 

"Oh, Baldur's _fucking _mistletoe!" Jessamine gasped, throwing away the broom to collapse against the wall, sinking down with a hand clutched to her chest, heart stuttering and breath stuck in her throat. A moment passed before she wheezed, regaining a normal, if fast, rhythm.

"Do you make it a habit to terrify people?" She hissed, slowly picking herself up off the ground. "Lady Nightingale."

"If it will get me what I need." The woman stood in the doorway, observing the room. "You have been busy."

"They left the door open and I needed something to do.”

”I see.”

”What? Am I in trouble because I found something to do?” At this, Nightingale laughed, but it was cold. Fake. Jessamine knew a politician when she saw one, and she wasn’t happy to be dealing with one.

”So what, no hench men to interrogate the crazy lady in the snow?”

”You think you're crazy?”

”I mean, by some standards, I am. But no, I just know the situation looked crazy.” She shrugged, not taking her eyes off Nightingale's general metal-clad frame. "How's what's-his-face? He hasn't been back yet, but I'm sure you knew that."

"I did. He has not woken yet."

"Not wo- What did you _do_ to him?" She picked up the broom she'd thrown, glad to see it hadn't broke. The way she held it wasn't exactly subtle, but she didn't care. 

"Nothing you need to know about. He is not your problem, after all." Damn Nightingale and her even tone. It told Jessamine absolutely nothing.

"Not my- you made him my problem when you threw me in the same cell." Clearly Nightingale had tired of the game.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

"Why do you need to know?" Had Jessamine mentioned she hated authority?

"You are, as you've reasoned, my problem. It is my job to... fix, problems." Jessamine opened her mouth to point out that they had dragged her to the village, not the other way around, but at that moment a man came in and whispered to Nightingale. She pinned Jessamine with another look, turning to leave. 

“You have not left thus far. I expect you continue to do so.” Jessamine gave a nod and waited until the woman left. 

“Bitch.” She stick her tongue out, and, childish whims fulfilled, returned to the books. There was an interesting looking chapter on something called the fade, whatever that was. 

* * *

When she lifted her head from the book’s pages, blinking slowly, she almost thought she’d woken up. Until a sleek little cat spoke up from behind her. 

“Baldur’s fu- the whole damn world is out to get me!” She threw her arms up, and realizing she was dreaming, thought about the softest little nest of blankets possible, covering the floor in pillows and such. Spending most of her free time daydreaming as a kid had instilled quite a strong will, she supposed. (Or perhaps she pointedly did not think about how easily it came to her fingertips now.) She thought there was a giant teddy bear in the corner but she wasn’t sure. 

“That’s more like it.” She grinned at the cat, flopping down upon a pale pink throw blanket. “Come join me?”

”You have a taste for the decadent.” If she’d expected such a purring voice from the cat, well, she wasn’t disappointed. 

“Not really, but it’s nice to have soft things. Doesn’t bother my skin so much.” The cat picked its way across the room, settling within arms reach. Jessamine reaches out, hesitating. 

“May I?” She got an odd glance -well, as odd a glance as a cat can give- and a single, dainty nod. “You may.”

Jess started with lightly scratching behind the cat’s ears.

”Do you have a name?”

”Do you need to know?”

”I suppose not.” They sat in quiet, with Jess stroking the soft cat. 

“Most demand to know why a cat speaks. Why don’t you?”

”Well, if there’s a message to be given, it will be given. What place is it of mine to question the messenger?” Jess paused. “My mother used to see dead people in her dreams, after they’d passed. She delivered messages for them as best she could. I suppose I should be grateful I see cats and wisps of light, instead of cousin Dave, with his missing head.” She sighed. 

“That is rather... macabre.” 

“Oh I know. My grandmother collected ghosts around her. Her mother could see things just before they really happened. We’ve always been weirdos.” She grinned. “Runs in the family.” The cat crept gingerly onto her chest and laid down, staring her in the eye.

“Your family does not worry of possession?”

”Not really. It’s one of those things that befalls those weak willed, or those that intentionally sought it out. I had a cousin that did. She never was quite right after.” Silence fell again, and Jess began fighting the pull of deeper sleep. It was not every day- or perhaps, every dream, where you got to sit amongst soft things with no responsibilities and a warm cat for company.

”Sleep. I will keep watch.”

_Keep watch for what? _She wanted to ask, but sleep pulled her down, and she went with. 

* * *

When she peeled her face from the book for a second time, it was to the heavy thus of a hand on the table next to her head. She jerked back, hard enough her chair tipped. She groaned, slowly picking herself off the ground. 

“What was the point of that, you ass?” She frowned, glaring at the man. 

“Lady Nightingale has ordered your release. You will report to Ambassador Montilyet.” With that, he left, and Jess rolled her eyes. Another day, another dick, she guessed. She grabbed her hoodie before she left, beating the dust out of it and shrugging it on. The stone floor was cool beneath her feet as she padded her way to the stairs. She hesitated at the door.

Was it a test? If she left would they just throw her to the nearest guillotine? If she stayed, what then? She’d finish the last of the books and get bored, that’s what. With that in mind she stepped through, and nearly collided with mister what’s-his-face.


	4. The Threat Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patch notes! (Will this joke ever be funny? Who knows)  
\- added a nod or two to her withdrawals, although the worst is yet to come  
\- maintained her dream space in the dungeon, as the fade would have ‘remembered’ how it was the night before  
\- changed serial killer to mass murderer, as I have been informed there is a difference and Corypheus is actually a mass murderer.

"Ah, wrong door then." He gave a sheepish smile, and Jessamine nodded.

"Yeah, the _much cleaner_ dungeon is down there. I don't know what you're looking for." He gave her an odd look, and she sighed. "I had nothing to do, so I cleaned. I swear on Sigyn's bowl, if I'm going to just get weird looks for everything I do I'm just gonna start throwing people out windows." She gave him a pointed look, and he laughed.

"I do not believe I know your name.” He grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

”Well, between it all, where was the time? I’m Jessamine.”

”Gale.” He glanced around. "I can't imagine you want to stick around here. You know, dungeon and all. I'm going to the Hinterlands with some other people, it's about a week's hike. There's business needing taking care of. Want to come with?"

"Well," She stalled. "I've got to meet an Ambassador Montilyet somewhere, and if I know anything about bureaucracy, nothing gets done quickly." He laughed, and she ducked her head, smiling. Ah, government jokes. Everybody loves those.

"That's actually the door to your left." He gestured, and she turned slightly. 

"Thanks. Maybe if I get free of their clutches I'll be able to join you." He nodded, stepped back, bowed, and then left. _Weird? _She knocked on the door.

* * *

How could she have ever described Lady Josephine's company as anything close to resembling clutches? The woman was sweet as honey and twice as pretty. 

"Oh! Um, Gale asked me to go with him to the Hinterlands." Where the fuck were hinterlands? "I don't quite know what..."

"What to expect?" If Lady Josephine gave her an odd look for the subject change away from home, Jess was already willing to forgive her. "No worries. I understand they leave tomorrow; I'll have a bag put together with what you'll need." She paused. "You're sure you don't want boots?" Jess tucked some hair behind her ear, missing Josephine's suddenly understanding look. "I'm sure, they make walking weird anyways." Just how many shoes had she worn through the toe of, the heel as clean as the day she'd bought them? Too many, she was sure. At least three, she mused jokingly.

“When you return from the hinterlands, we’ll get together and find a place to put you.” The dismissal was clear and polite, and Jess smiled.

”I look forward to it.” She gave a wobbly curtsy, stifling a laugh at Lady Josephine’s indulgent smile.

”I’m learning, honest.” She grinned. “Haven’t had to play nice in a long time.” With that she left. 

She needed something to do. Well, not do, per se, but something to pass the time until the sun set. 

So she set about walking the paths winding the town, building a map in her head. Now, if only she knew which way was north...

Apparently the chantry was north of the gates. Convenient. People were giving her odd looks. Was it her clothes? Her ears? She wasn’t sure, but after the sixth conversation cut short in her passing presence, she was done with it, even if her hands hadn’t started shaking horribly in her pockets. She returned to the chantry a little after the sun had set, and while the cold drove many inside, it still hadn’t quite touched her yet. She guessed she was getting used to it.

She passed a nun lady, giving a polite nod as she did, and descended to her little dungeon. She'd sleep most of the night away if she could, and in the morning she'd see Lady Josephine.

* * *

It wasn't long until she was pulled from mindless dreams and into a somewhat aware state. The floor was filled with soft things, and she stood in the center, and looking around. The cat was there.

"Is there something I can call you by? I can hardly go around calling you 'the cat.'" The cat slunk across the floor to flop down at her feet.

"Call me Desireé." Jessamine rolled the name around her head.

"An old name, with a lot of history." She gave a sly grin, sitting down. "Awful big shoes, for such dainty feet." 

"Who said they are my shoes to fill? Why not the one that named me?"

"Well, who named you?"

"Perhaps I'll tell you later. Perhaps I will not." With that, Desireé curled up within her crossed legs, a paw laid across their eyes. Conversation clearly over, Jessamine leaned against the wall, eyes shutting as she laid a hand in Desireé's thick fur. A rumbling purr thrummed throughout the room, more than she expected from such a small cat, and she slipped into a deeper sleep.

* * *

It's one thing to walk the hills alone, it's another thing entirely to hike down a mountain with people that don't know you, except for a guy you spent five minutes with in a cell. She got two days of blessed quiet before the dwarf set his sights on her.

"So where are you from?" 

"Pretty far from here." That was true enough, right? 

"Why'd you come to Haven?" 

"Because I am, occasionally, quite dumb." _Quite dumb _didn't mark the half of it!

"Only occasionally?" Tethras gave her a sly grin. She wasn't having it. Twenty questions never had been her favorite game, and everything in the world was bothering her today, it seemed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"I hear Nightingale isn't too pleased with you. With either of you." Now Gale was dragged in.

"She can deal with it. She wants my help, she can let out the harmless kid stuck in the dungeon."

"I'm not harmless, I'm _unarmed_. Give me a good stick and I'll knock you flat on your ass." She eyed his armor. "Maybe." Gale laughed, and she shook her head. "It's been a little too long for me to be confident about that. As for Lady Nightingale, she can piss right on off."

"Woah, hostile. What happened?" Gale gave her an odd look.

"Windows, Gale, windows." He laughed. "I'm minding my own business, and I get hauled down to a dungeon and treated like I knew who blew up the Twin Towers! Which is equally as dumb an idea as me being involved in that," she flailed an arm violently in the direction of the Breach. "Because I was two when _that _happened." 

"Twin Towers?" 

"How old even are you?" She ignored Tethras' question in favor of answering Gale's.

"Dunno. Quit counting after I hit eighteen. Just felt old after that." She shrugged.

"You felt old... at eighteen?" The incredulity in Tethras' voice made her laugh.

"Well it sounds bad when you put it like that!" She shook her head. "Think about all the things you saw before you even turned eighteen, and then think about how you've got another eighty years, give or take, to see even more. Don't it make you tired? Not like, 'oh, I need a nap' tired but like, 'good grief will it ever end' tired."

"Aren't you just a macabre ray of sunshine?" Gale shook his head in disbelief. She hummed noncommittally.

"Well, it's not the worst thing to be."

"And what's that?" 

"A crazed mass murderer hellbent on the end of the world." 

"Oh." And the rest of the day they walked silently, even once camp was set up. 


	5. The Hinterlands, but they never end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added  
\- more withdrawals  
\- a late night struggle with the futility of the human mind, and a resolution to ‘fix’ her problems

Sunlight came in through the window, and she woke slowly. It didn't last long.

_School! I'm late! _She shot up, heart racing. _Wait, its Saturday. I don't have class today._ She laid back down. _Wait, I still have work! _She was halfway to the door before she realized, and she finally took in her surroundings. Right. Not-home. They were in the Hinterlands, in the Crossroads' village. She looked around, noting the others were gone. They likely were off, fighting this or that to what's-his-face's farm. She shuddered, remembering the fight from the day before. She'd thoroughly had her ass handed to her until she'd gotten her hands on a staff, dropped from a fallen mage's hands. Then it'd been handed to her slightly less. She reached up, wincing when her fingers brushed against the slashed bridge of her nose. Luckily it hadn't bled too much, because goddamn, talk about a wake up call.

_Well, no reason to just sit around. Up! _She walked to her bedroll and shrugged into the hoodie she'd left in a pile of cloth on the floor the night before. There had to be something around the village she could do.

That something turned out to be minding children. She wasn't sure how it happened. One moment she was walking, the next she'd somehow collected three kids, dogging her step like lost puppies.

"...Can I help you?" The smallest piped up.

"You're not from here, do you know any good stories?"

"I... know a few." Wrong move. All three started begging for one. She sighed, looking up into the sky. Down in the lowlands, it would be a hot day. "Let's find some shade to sit in, and I'll see what I remember." And then she was under a tree, children slowly collecting around her as she ran through her mental library, drawing heavily from the disney movies she remembered. Mulan, Robin Hood, even Cinderella, and the Sword in the Stone. She was somewhere in the middle of Aladdin when she realized the sun was setting, and she hadn't seen Gale or the others. She frowned, but kept going, as one by one the kids drifted away, collected by this adult or that. When the last one left, she stood stiffly, legs long asleep. They must be camping out somewhere. She'd wait for them to come back, and in the meantime she'd keep minding the kids, she supposed.

* * *

It took three days for them to come crawling back to the Crossroads, and with no one to share the unfamiliar space, she slept poorly. If she fell asleep at all, that was. She ended up wandering the edge of the town the second night, mind racing against the quiet of an unmodern village. Somewhere around what she guessed would have been three in the morning, she’d had enough. There had to be a way to make it stop, yes? She struggled to focus, thoughts slipping from her grasp even as more took its place. She sat on a barrel, cradling her head in her hands, and cursed under her breath. Her meds had originally been stimulants, so if she found some sort of equivalent, then perhaps she could find someone who knew how to dose her without killing her. The struggle would be to find the replacement and someone to dose it without letting the whole world know. She decided all she could do for now was to keep an eye out.

* * *

The day they came back, she was leaned against what had become her tree, eyes shut against a growing headache, bordering on the beginnings of a migraine, as she recounted Alice in Wonderland. Occasionally she'd open an eye to see who was gathered, who had left, and if she was properly enthralling them. One moment it was simply the children, and the next time she opened her eyes -it had been quite a while, from Alice falling down the hole to her meeting with the blue caterpillar- there, in the back, sat all four, although Cassandra seemed annoyed. Then again, when wasn't she? She stumbled over her words, pausing, and Gale made a gesture with his hands, excitedly- go on! Well, if he said so, she grinned. She shook her head once and plowed on.

"'But I'm not used to such a height!' pleaded poor Alice in a pitiful tone, and the blue caterpillar..." She carried on, until just past noon.

"So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been, wonderful indeed." With that, she stood and sighed. "Now, I'd love to keep telling stories, but I've got things to do today. Y'all'll have to find your entertainment somewhere else for once." She recieved a chorus of complaints, and she laughed. "Go on, now. It ain't that bad." They started wandering off, and she approached Gale, grinning.

"So, how'd things go with what's-his-face?"

"Dennet? Decent. All that's left is having some towers built and then we'll have the horses we need. He gave us some mounts for now though." He paused, then side eyed her. "You _can _ride, yes?" She huffed, grimacing. 

"I haven't ridden since I was tiny. We'll see what I remember," She grinned. "And what I don't."

Turns out she remembered how to mount and that was it. And that was how she ended up spending the next week with Cassandra, learning to ride while Gale and the others took on tasks for the people that called these plains home. The children thought it all was terribly entertaining, sometimes watching, sometimes playing games nearby.   
  
”Your arms are too high, drop them!” She slapped her hands down to her thighs, aggravating already sore muscles. If you wanted her to walk for hours, she could. Spreading her legs so wide over the back of what she considered the world’s sweetest mare, that was another story. Jessamine heaved a sigh and shifted in the saddle.

”You are leaning too-“ Cassandra threw her arms in the air. Rude. “Come here.” Rolling her eyes, Jessamine guided sweet, patient, saintly Amity over to the fence post Cassandra was on the other side of. 

“It might not look like it, but I really am trying, Seeker.” Cassandra only shook her head. 

“Move forward.” Jessamine scooted up in the saddle, confused, and suddenly there was a jangling of metal and Cassandra was seated behind her. Awfully close behind her.

”Lean against me, feel how I move with the horse. You are too stiff, one good buck and you won’t be riding any more, you’ll be falling.” Jessamine laughed at Cassandra’s dry tone, but nodded. There was no warning as Cassandra urged Amity forward, and Jessamine’s legs flew up as she struggled to balance. And then Cassandra was on her, hands correcting her posture, shoving her legs down, and when Jessamine turned her head to look at Cassandra, gently but firmly turning her back forward.

”Always watch where you are going. When you’ve gained some skill a glance will not hurt, but for now, don’t.” Jessamine nodded, stopping another glance halfway through the motion. They made another loop of the fallow field without a mistake, and Cassandra dismounted at the fence, holding a hand out to help Jessamine down. 

”You did well at the end. Perhaps we will make a chevalier of you yet.” Was that a joke? Had Cassandra just _told a joke?_ Jessamine stumbled off of Amity, laughing. 

”I don’t know, wouldn’t that require moving faster than a walk as well?” 

”Ah, you are right. A shame.” Cassandra moved out of the way, and they walked back to the main crossroads, Amity ambling along between them. By the time they’d made it back and Jessamine had put away Amity’s tack, Gale, Solas, and Varric had returned to camp as well.

”We can head back to Haven tomorrow morning, there’s not much of anything left to do here.”

”Really? But the Hinterlands are so big...” Jessamine had seen the map. They stretched on for _forever._

”Glad someone else sees the problem with this place.” Varric sighed dramatically, giving Jessamine a conspiratory wink. 

”And yet we’ve done it all.” Gale grinned between the two. Solas had struck up a quiet conversation with Cassandra on the other side of the house-like building. She hesitated to call it a hut, but really, that’s what it was. The evening slowly wound down, and amidst the idle chatter of travel plans and packing for the morning, Jessamine found herself excited to go back to Haven. After all, the adventure could hardly end here.


	6. Haven, but the advisors stop arguing for five seconds

The ride back to Haven took nearly half the time it had taken to walk! She'd known horses we're faster, but damn. Each day was more difficult and painful than the prior, and by the time they were at Haven’s gates, not even Cassandra’s occasional praise of her bettering skills made up for the misery her body was going through. The second they reached the stables she swung down, desperate to put Amity away so she could sleep for the next three weeks. 

Except men she assumed were some sort of stablehands came and led their horses away before she could even open her mouth. No one opposed it, so clearly it was supposed to happen, but... Really? Clearly, those that traveled in Gale’s company were treated differently indeed. Just how important was he?

She was drawn out of her musing by a hand on her shoulder. 

”We should speak with the other advisors, then.” Gale was just to the side of her, and she shrugged. 

”If you say so.” He laughed. 

”I do say so.” And with that, they were off to the Chantry, he limping far less than her, though her gait evened out by the time they reached the giant doors and entered.

Cassandra had gone ahead of them, apparently, because there she was, poised as if she hadn't just ridden for nearly a week straight.

”You were to claim Horsemaster Dennet’s aid. Were you successful?” Cullen jumped right into business. _Well, hello to you too, nice to see you’re doing so well. _Except that his hands were shaking ever so slightly. Was he not eating? Or was it truly so stressful a topic? Her own hands clenched against her own oncoming tremors and a cold thought hit her. Was he using something? Was he _quitting _something? She wouldn’t wish withdrawals on anyone, but it was nice to know they existed here too, possibly. Perhaps there were resources. She left the thought as it was, turning her attention to the conversation.

”Once these towers are built, he said he'd send the horses along. I believe his exact words were, 'I won't have them winding up a cold winter morning's breakfast.'" Jessamine laughed.

"Sounds like my kind of man!" 

"Oh, you wouldn't like him, he's already married, and too old for you, to boot." Gale teased, and she rolled her eyes.

"Bold of you to assume I actually care." 

"And what did you achieve, morale wise?" Cullen again, though Ambassador Montilyet perked up, and then Jessamine zoned out. After all, what amounted to fetch quests never really had been interesting.

The candles had burned quite a bit lower by the time she had finished studying the massive map, and they were arguing about Gale meeting with some clergy. Clearly they’d forgotten she was there, and she wasn’t sure if she should bow out.

Too late.

”I’ll have Jessamine there with me, right?” He turned to her, and she jumped to attention.

”Oh sure, if they do anything I’ll raise such a fuss they won’t know what to do with themselves.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I might not be much help combat wise, though.”

”You still have that staff, don’t you?” Gale frowned when he noticed she didn’t have it on her, unlike the massive sword strapped to his back.

”No, it’s still on Amity’s saddle, with the rest of my things. But I’d have it if I went, yeah.”

”Oh, good. Safety in numbers and all that.” She scoffed a laugh.

”If you say so.”

”I do say so.” He stuck his tongue out, and she shook her head. 

”I will go with the Herald as well.” Cassandra spoke up, and soon they were bickering again. How they managed to get anything done, she wasn’t sure.

She caught Gale’s eye and pointed to herself and the door with a questioning face, and he grinned, nodding. The sheer glee she felt at making it out the door left her giddy. To the stables, to get her things, and then to her lil corner of the dungeon.

And that was how Josephine found her, napping on a freshly swept floor, a straw hat she’d been given at the Crossroads laid over her face to block out the light.

“Pardon my intrusion, Jessamine, but we have yet to talk at length.” Jessamine shrugged, gesturing at the table.

”It’s not as fancy as yours, but we can talk in your office if you’d rather.”

”Here is fine.” They settled at the table, and Josephine got to the root of it.

”Do you truly want to stay here?”

”Haven? Yeah, of course. It’s great here, nobody picks on me. Except Lady Nightingale. And Tethras, but he means better. I think.” She received an indulgent smile.

“I meant the dungeon. This is not the only place available for you to stay.”

”I’d like to be out of the way, is the thing. I don’t want to step on any toes trying to squeeze in where I’m not wanted. Or useful.” Jessamine sighed, running a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands.

”You think you’re unwanted?”

”I’m just saying, Sister Nightingale’s not my biggest fan. I’m not hers, either.”

”Be that as it may, you’ve made quite the impression on the Herald. I’m sure he wouldn’t allow anything to happen.” Jessamine paused.

”You -maybe not you specifically, but you’re the so called messenger- you don’t want me down here. Why?” Just the faintest flicker of something crossed Josephine’s face, but it was gone before Jessamine could decipher it.

”I’m not at liberty to divulge the other advisor’s intentions, I apologize.”

”Okay, I’m listening. If I left the dungeon, where would you put me?” 

”Well, I know for a fact the tavern needs staffing, and there’s still an empty bunk in the rafters above.” Visceral disgust coursed through Jessamine’s veins; retail she could do, but fast food had chewed her up and spit her out. She imagined a tavern would be quite similar. Well. It was before fast food here, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She heaved a great sigh.

”If you insist, I’ll give it a try. I don’t have much to bag up anyhow.” She knew a losing battle when she saw one. Didn’t mean she didn’t feel like she was being dragged out of a hidey hole by her metaphorical tail, though. She followed Josephine to the tavern, suffered through introductions, and finally was allowed to scope out the new home base; a narrow bed and two wide ones dominated the rafters. Three other women (excluding Flissa) would be sharing the two beds with her. Talk about intruding on someone else’s space. Lilian hadn’t seemed too pleased to be sharing a bed with her. When she returned to the ground floor, Josephine was still there. 

”Tomorrow morning, the Herald leaves for Val Royeaux, and has requested your presence. You’ll be expected at the gates by dawn.” A curtesy, returned by Jessamine, and she was gone, sailing through the gathering crowd. A blink, and Jessamine could no longer see the telltale gold of her sleeves.

“Hurry now, they’ll be wanting their ale.” A platter of mugs was shoved into her hands, and she was directed to a nearby table. Jessamine sighed, but threw on a smile and marched onward.


	7. The road to Val Royeaux, but it never ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been a bit, hasn’t it?

Sleep didn't come straight away that night. She laid on the very edge of the bed she shared with Lillian, loathe to intrude more than she already had. Her mind, however, simply would not afford her the same luxury. It was already late, she was expected at the gate by dawn, and yet she still was restless. She snuck out of the tavern, cold wind blowing past as she shut the door behind her. She shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of just what she wanted to do. She started off just walking, heading nowhere in particular, except her feet led her right out of Haven, past curious guards whom she placated with a sheepish smile and a promise to be back, and straight to the lake, frozen over and reflecting the sky. But it wasn't enough, she wanted to run. So she did, stride lengthening until she was sprinting, fast as she could, around the lakeshore. She made it a single lap before she collapsed into the snow, chest heaving and throat burning, but some deep need sated, as she laughed breathlessly.

The snow soaked into her clothes, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She’d just change into dry clothes when she got back. Thankfully the people here were very fond of sleeping in shifts, at least for the women.  
When she could finally breathe without any pain, she crawled to her feet, heading for the tavern. The guards merely stared at her as she passed, something she was already used to, and when she finally shrugged into dry clothes and laid in bed, sleep finally came.

* * *

The tavern around her wavered, as if simultaneously melting and solidifying. She glanced around, interested in the way it moved like an optical illusion, and was blindsided by the cat launching itself at her legs, winding betwixt them.

“Where were you? I was so _worried_.” 

“I was in the Hinterlands. I would have told you, but we left before nightfall.” Jessamine felt awful. Here was a being worried about her, and all she had been worried about was herself.

“Please don’t leave again. If anything were to happen to you...” Desireé’s pleading, deep green eyes bored into Jessamine’s.

“I have to. We’re leaving for Val Royeaux in the morning. They expect me there.”  
Desireé flopped onto the ground with a whine, clearly distressed, and Jessamine kneeled next to the tiny cat.

“I’m sorry, I’d love to stay, but I can’t just say no. I’m here on their whims.”

“But if you get hurt, is that really worth it?” Jessamine laughed.

“I’m already hurting, what’s some more piled on?” Desireé bristled, crawling onto her lap.

”Don’t joke like that, please.” Jessamine gently lifted her into a hug.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try not to.”   
They spent quite some time like that, Jessamine cradling Desireé, until the little cat heaved an impressive sigh.

“It is nearly dawn. You should go.”   
  
“I don’t want to.” Jessamine pouted.  
  
“We all do things we don’t want to, I suppose. Please stay safe while you’re gone. Promise me?”

“I promise I’ll try to be safe.” 

She was propelled into wakefulness so forcefully, she rolled off the edge of the bed, hands and knees hitting the wooden floor with bruising force.

”_Fuck_!” What a wonderful way to start off the day. The others around her were already getting ready, so she didn’t feel too bad about swearing so loudly.

”They’ll be wanting you at the gate soon, you’d best hurry.”

”Yes, ma’m.” She mumbled, hauling her bag out from under the bed. Today was going to be _lovely._

* * *

They spent much of the first day traveling with Varric picking at Cassandra each chance he got. It seemed the second day was her turn. 

”So you weren’t born with them that way?”

”No, I’m told I looked as much like a normal human being as any baby. Which, to be fair, isn’t very much.” She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. 

“I’d wondered, they’re awful short.” He teased.

”Oh, like you?”

”Hey now, that’s a bit uncalled for.” Amusement warmed his voice, and she rolled her eyes.

”Why the obsession, anyway?” She was vaguely aware of Gale and Cassandra speaking ahead, but didn’t pay any mind, even when they slowed almost to a stop, leaving sweet Amity to keep pace with no guidance from Jessamine as well.

”I just don’t understand why you would do it.”

”Well, it’s something I’d always wanted. My dad-“

”A rift! Demons!” Came Gale’s call, and she swung off Amity’s back, staff at the ready. Why was it always demons? She supposed it could be worse, after hearing about the Pride demon that came from the Breach, although she was sure Varric had exaggerated a bit. These were supposedly the little guys, whisps and shades, although they made up for whatever perceived shortcoming with numbers. The moment they stepped away from the horses, they were nearly surrounded. Not good, when someone has a ranged weapon. She could see Varric trying to clear a path to a hill. She ducked under a claw, knocking the shade in the face viciously with the end of her staff. She followed up with another jab, knocking it further back, and Varric slipped through the break in the line. She debated following him, in case they tried to flank, but she didn't want to leave Cassandra and Gale back to back against the onslaught. 

"Keep them off me, I'm going to disrupt it!" Gale called, charging through the demons with brute force to connect with the rift, green energy crackling. Cassandra followed in his wake, knocking them back, away from Gale and pinning them between her and Jessamine. The rift burst, more liquid than solid now. A rush went up her spine, nerves buzzing, and the whisp she'd swung her staff through distorted, seemingly glitching out. Another strike and it dissolved. With the demons stunned, it didn't take much more, and soon enough Gale was closing the rift itself. The burst nearly shoved her to the ground, as it always did. She sighed, leaning on her staff for support.

"I'm too old for this shit." She laughed, and Varric shook his head somberly.

"It only gets worse." He joked, and of course, Cassandra made her signature scoff. 

"We should continue, we may still make it to the coast by nightfall. _If _ we do not dawdle." She pinned Varric with a glare.

"Me? Dawdle? Seeker, I'm hurt." Jessamine rolled her eyes, mounting Amity again, and simply waited for the two to finish their squabble, Gale mounting at her side. 

“Think we’ll actually make it?” He asked, and she hummed in thought, holding her hand up just under the sun. “Maybe two hours to sunset. I don’t know how far the coast actually is.”

”Not much further, we’ll make it.” He pulled to the front of the group, and she shrugged. Was the ship’s captain going to set sail at night? Probably not.


End file.
